


Betting on Judgement

by rage_quitter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Edging, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Slight Voyeurism, Vibrators, getting bent over a table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: Mithrax learns why you should never take a bet you're not sure you can win. But really, he doesn't think he's lost. Variks doesn't think so, either.





	Betting on Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> variks calls mithrax, misraaks

Misraaks gripped the table hard with his primary hands.

“Mithrax?” 

He blinked up at the Hunter with a questioning sound.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Misraaks tightened his jaw and took a breath. He could almost feel Variks in the corner of the room watching. Could feel his smug grin. “Eia. Fine,” he rumbled. 

It amped up the moment the Hunter turned around.

Misraaks closed his eyes and tightened his stomach. It felt so good, so good. 

He was going to kill Variks, absolutely strangle him.

All at once it shut off. It took far too much self control not to whimper. He scraped his claws against the table and glowered at the holoprojection in front of him without seeing it. 

He thanked the Great Machine for his better armor. He was positively dripping down his thighs, his length rubbing uncomfortably against the inside of his armor, hungry and aching for a touch. His fingers kept twitching uncontrollably.

Misraaks took a breath and tried to focus on the projection again.

He heard Variks shift and tensed.

It started again.

They’d been doing this all day.

Misraaks was on the verge of losing it and he knew Variks could tell. It was on the lowest setting, a gentle vibration in his pore, hardly more than a tease. 

He shuffled his weight again, trying to look at the projection and not focus on the humming inside him, no matter how good it felt, to not think about Variks’ hands on him, Variks taking it out and replacing it with--

“Whoa, Mithrax!” The Hunter exclaimed, reaching out to catch the projection. “Dude, are you sure you’re okay?”

Misraaks tightened his claws. He couldn’t see for a second, silently choking on his Ether. Variks turned it down again. 

He turned a glare on him finally. “Need to speak with you,” he growled. “Private.”

The Hunter frowned, looking between them. “Is everything alright?” 

Even the Warlock looked worried.

Variks chuckled and pushed himself to his feet. “Yes, yes, Misraaks.”

It was still on.

Misraaks stalked for the airlock, trying to keep his movements as normal as possible. “Variks.”

Variks narrowed his secondary eyes with a grin as he hobbled past him out into the hall.

“What’s going on?” the Warlock asked.

Misraaks hesitated. “Nothing bad,” he told them. “Just need… word with Judgement. Will be back.”

Variks was still laughing as Misraaks closed the door.

Misraaks crowded him up against the wall, hips jerking. “Variks,” he snarled. “I can’t, I can’t take it anymore, stop it, I--”

Variks carded his fingers into the mantle of his cloak. “My quarters,” he hissed. “Now.”

Misraaks refused to wait. He grabbed Variks harder and lifted him up. Variks inhaled sharp, looking almost offended as he clung to him, but Misraaks’ wild eyes and quick breath must’ve been enough to stop him from arguing. 

He swept through the Ketch until he reached Variks’ quarters. Variks reached out to key in his code, and then Misraaks was carrying him inside.

He let Variks slide to the floor and found himself being nearly slammed back against the airlock with teeth at his throat. 

“You couldn’t make it,” Variks said into his skin.

Misraaks couldn’t breathe, so desperate to be touched. “You made it impossible.”

“Hunters are terrible influences. You shouldn’t agree to bets, Misraaks, beloved.” Variks dragged his claws down Misraaks’ side to grab the front of his armor. He growled appreciatively as Misraaks jerked into the touch. “You lost the bet.”

“Then take what you want,” Misraaks said.

Variks grabbed at his armor and pulled him further into the room. He pushed him against the desk and shoved the stuff on it out of the way. “Armor,” he snapped gruffly.

Misraaks fumbled at his belt.

Variks watched hungry before tackling his own armor.

Misraaks paused and started to chitter. “You’re just as worked up, aren’t you?” he said.

Variks bared his teeth and shoved at him. “I have the self control to wait,” he growled. He yanked at his arm, careful not to pull too hard but forceful enough to make clear he wanted Misraaks to turn around.

He did, heart jumping. 

Variks pressed up against him, pushed a hand to his back. “Seeing you all day, twitching and distracted,” he purred. “Irresistible. But it’s such a fun game, isn’t it? It’ll be so much better, that you’ve gone all day.”

Misraaks shuddered as he leaned forward. He braced his primary hands on the desk. “Variks,” he keened. 

Variks reached around his waist to stroke him. “I did this,” he whispered. “Have a Kell bent before me, soaked to the bone and shaking, begging. Impatient for me to touch him…”

“Please,” Misraaks groaned. “Variks… Variks, please, please--”

“Shh,” Variks hissed softly. Fingers trailed through the slick from Misraak’s parted pelvic plate. “Give me your hands. Behind your back.”

Misraaks bowed forward to move his secondaries behind him. He shuddered as strong metal fingers pinned them to his back. 

“Good, good,” Variks purred. “Don’t move your arms. Stay still. Trust me.”

Misraaks melted against him. “I trust you.”

Variks’ secondary hand slid between his thighs to find the vibrator. Misraaks tensed as he grabbed it.

When Variks pressed it in further, nudging the vibration up higher, he choked out. His legs trembled, electric heat dancing erattically through his Ether. “Variks,” he whined.

Variks chuckled and slowly thrust it into him. “What do you want, Misraaks?”

“You.” He gripped the desk so hard his fingers hurt. English spat from his teeth. “Fuck me.”

Variks froze for a second.

Then the vibrator was pulled out entirely. Misraaks clenched around the sudden emptiness and jumped as it thunked unceremoniously on the table beside him. He flushed cold when he glanced toward it to see it absolutely dripping with his own slick.

Variks’ secondary hands met his hips and gripped him tight. His other hand released him, though the last one kept his arms pinned firmly. 

When Variks pressed against him, his slick, seeking length eagerly sliding over his flesh, Misraaks couldn’t, and didn’t, hold back a desperate sound. A moan, nearly. 

Variks purred deep in his chest and jerked his hips to press into him. 

Misraaks bucked back against him, wordlessly pleading to be filled. He felt so good, worlds better than the vibrator. It was sweet, sweet relief after hours of being left desperate and wanting. 

Variks gripped his arms hard, leaning forward over him. Misraaks was pressed down further, chest to the desk, as Variks filled his pore. 

“Ahh,” he groaned out. “Variks, yes…”

Variks chuckled breathlessly, the sound half growled. “You’ve been driving yourself crazy all day, haven’t you?”

“You’ve been,” Misraaks corrected. He pressed his face to the desk, eyes closing to focus on the feeling of Variks inside him. “Good, so good, Variks… more, please, more…”

Metal claws wove into his mantle. “You’re ready?”

Misraaks growled. Or tried to, anyway; it came out as a pleading whine. “I’ve been--I’ve been on the edge all… all day, Variks, please, I can’t take it anymore, let me come, please…”

Variks clutched his mantle tighter and jerked his hips hard. Misraaks gasped out and shifted his knees apart further. 

His arms hurt with how hard Variks was holding them, but Misraaks didn’t care. All he cared about was Variks fucking into him, the sound of his quick, rasping breaths, the way his claws dug into his waist to hold him steady and pull him back to meet his hips. 

Every thrust into him sent electric shocks through his oversensitive body. It was heaven, really, as he desperately clawed his way to the edge, eyes unfocused. He needed this, needed him, needed to have Variks bending him over a desk and fucking him senseless.

Variks eased his thrusts to rub his bulb against him. “Misraaks,” he growled.

Misraaks spread his legs apart more. “Do it,” he rasped. “Please, Variks, I want it, want you.”

Variks’ claws scraped his keratin as he changed his pace from rough thrusts to more forceful rolls of his hips. 

Misraaks held his breath as his bulb stretched him open. 

When finally Variks pushed in all the way, firmly locking them together, Misraaks could’ve howled. His sound was choked out and raw, instead. 

Variks rolled his hips gingerly now, a satisfied purr in his chest. His length lazily pulsed against Misraaks’ pore, dragging out pleased sounds from the Kell. 

His hands went gentle on his waist, trailing over him. “Misraaks,” he murmured.

Misraaks hummed in response, too blissed out and shaking to speak. 

“I have to say… the one thing about this angle I don’t like… I can’t see your face when you come.”

Misraaks swallowed dryly and pressed back against him. 

The hand in his mantle vanished. Misraaks groaned when it returned to his front, wrapped around his length, squeezing and stroking him. He jerked uselessly, pinned securely to Variks’ hips. 

Variks rubbed along the swollen bumps of his bulb, pressed against the outside of his pore where it was stretched around his own. “You’re close?”

Misraaks managed a nod.

“Good. Come.”

Misraaks whined and clenched his stomach around Variks’ length. He wanted to come so badly, he’d been aching for it for hours and hours--

Variks wrapped his hand solidly around him and gave a few swift, sure jerks.

Misraaks felt more than heard the pleased cry that burst from his chest as he finally, finally came.

Variks cursed behind him and kept stroking his length, sending electric jolts through his shaking body as slick poured over his hand. Misraaks trembled beneath him, tense and senseless.

He’d hardly started to come down when Variks gave a sharp jerk of his hips and came into him.

Misraaks scraped his claws at the table as Variks’ cool fluid filled him. He heard the warped purr through Variks’ vocal synth, felt the shaking of his hands. Misraaks rolled his hips into him, urging every drop out out of him. 

Left with a tingling through his body, Misraaks waited nearly limp for Variks’ bulb to soften enough. Variks slowly pulled back, and Misraaks shuddered as come dripped down out of his pore. 

“Ah,” he sighed. “Variks, you’re--”

Misraaks yelped.

Variks chittered a laugh as he pressed the vibrator back against him.

“Variks, Variks,” Misraaks begged. “What are you--”

Variks paused. “Do you want me to stop?” He spoke it soft, serious.

Misraaks pressed his forehead to the table and shivered. “No,” he whispered. “Do it.”

Variks pressed the vibrator back into him, plugging him full of his come. “I don’t think our Guardian friends will miss us that much,” he murmured. 

Misraaks’ knees started to give out when the vibrator turned on again. 

**Author's Note:**

> come stop by my tumblr @lesbianeliksni


End file.
